Burning Low
by Smoothie And Ice
Summary: Human AU. Emil thought everything would be better if he just killed himself. He didn't expect, however, for someone to try and stop him. Trapped between the visions of the real world and visions of his past self, he reflects that maybe, just maybe, life was worth it. (EstIce) (Mentions of suicide and After Life)
1. A Letter For My Brother

To my brother;

If you are reading this, then I must say a very deep "I'm sorry." I'm not totally sure of why I did it. Perhaps it was the constant harassing in school, or the feeling of loneliness I couldn't tell you nor Matthias.

My science project is on the desk, please deliver it to Kiku and apologize for not being there to expose it.

Please feed Mr. Puffin. His seeds are nearby my computer.

Oh, and if you happen to stop by at Eduard's on your way to work like you usually do, please also apologize on my behalf. I did want to accept that date, I just felt too nervous and my stuttering made him think I felt awkward around him enough to keep a rather great distance between the two of us the rest of the year. If given a chance, I would totally accept another one.

Again, sorry for the trouble. I didn't mean to be such a nuisance when I died.

Perhaps not-so-sincerely,

Emil.


	2. Burial At Noon

The view was amazing, that much Emil was sure. He felt so captured by the vivid colors on the horizon that could be seen in his window. He finished writing the essay he had due that day and cramped most of his stuff in his year-long backpack.

He petted his little bird, smiling softly when it greeted him with a little squeal. It meant "good morning" to him.

Emil walked the stairs two by two, making sure to pay attention to them so he wouldn't fall down all his merry way to heaven.

"Are you ready to school?" He turned around to the source of the voice once he reached the bottom of the stairs. "I heard you have some important tests today."

Emil blinked a little, hoping to brush off whatever sleepiness he might have. "Yeah," he answered loosely. "Mid-terms, actually. Nothing too exhausting."

"It's good to hear that, I think," his wheat blonde interlocutor shrugged. "I still remember what a nightmare tests were."

"They're not hard if you understand the topic."

"Pfft. You say that because you're a genius."

"No, Matthias," both boys turned around to face another rather stoic platinum blond. "You say that because you are a dummie," he now turned to his brother. "Good morning, Emil."

"Morning, Lukas," he greeted back.

"Ow, I wish you would still call me 'Big brother' like you used to," he sighed, half-teasing, half-dreamily.

"Keep wishing, see if it comes true," Lukas could only let out a laugh at the crude humor his brother had. "Anyway, I gotta go already, see you later."

"Bye, Emil!" Said Matthias with that wide, idiotic grin he always wore.

.

"Good morning, Emil," the Icelandic almost jumped when someone greeted him from behind, he felt very relieved to notice it was only Eduard.

"Good morning, please don't startle me like that," he pleaded with a hand on his chest while he closed his locker.

"Sorry, didn't mean to, I guess I just wanted to see some expression on your face other than barely contained unamusement" he shrugged and glanced over his friend's shoulder and asked. "What do you have on this period?"

"Physics, like usual on Tuesdays."

"Well then, I'll walk you to your class since mine won't start for another twenty minutes or so," he turned on his heels and motioned for his friend to do the same. "You coming?"

Emil let out a soft smile before walking towards his friend and toward the terrific physics class. "Yeah."

As of then, everything was OK.

* * *

Hello, and welcome to my first work under this name. I hope you've enjoyed what has been updated of this story and that it didn't seem confusing. Please note English is not my first language and, therefore, still a little choppy. I hope you look forward to see chapter three, I know I look forward to write it!

Thanks a lot for reading, until then…

See ya all!


	3. Not A Rainbow Turning The Corner

"Where am I?" Emil asked to no one in particular after realizing he was still material, still alive and still existing. He inspected his surroundings carefully and after seeing only rows and rows of black, he gave up. He sighed and looked up as he was laying down (he _was_ laying down, right? Having nothing to tell was really frustrating).

Who would know the After Life sucked so much.

"Hello, there," Emil sat upright like a bolt as he was startled by the sudden voice nearby, he looked everywhere and stopped after seeing a couple of emerald-green eyes under a ridiculous amount (at least to him) of eyebrows. "It's good to see you're awake."

"You seem familiar," Emil said after studying the man's face. "Hey, aren't you my literature teacher?"

The blonde shrugged. "I'm your guide through this place. I'm supposed to be someone you looked up to," he said, "and clearly, that's not the case."

"Well, you were pretty damn moody all the time. Don't actually expect me to be joyous about it." He looked around a little more, expecting for something to materialize and help him get out of his boredom. "By the way, what in Odin's name is this place?"

"It's what humans would call a limbo, a place that is neither Hell, Heaven, nor Earth, since you were not lawful good, nor lawful bad, you ended up here. It's neutral lands." The Guide explained as naturally as possible.

"So you're not human?" It seemed like a dumb question to him after he had voiced it, but it had been very intriguing since the very first second he had seen the man.

"I'm a spirit, I can switch forms if it would so much please you," he offered.

"No, no, Mr. Kirkland. I can't imagine my brother, nor Matthias nor Eduard guiding my way in the limbo thing, you are fit for this job." Arthur seemed rather pleased with the answer from the teenager.

"Very well, then let's begin."

.

Lukas checked the clock one last time before deciding this was one of those days were he had to go and wake up his brother so he wouldn't be late for school. With a reluctant sigh and heavy footsteps, he walked upstairs and knocked on the wooden door a couple of times. After no answer was received, he opened the door with a small, unamused warning of his intruding.

As he very much expected, Emil was laying down on his bed, his sheet covering him until his neck. He approached the bedpost and shook him a couple of times.

"Emil, wake up, you're gonna be late for school if you don't," his brow furrowed after he didn't even receive a grunt in response. Thinking it was his duty as a big brother, he took the sheet by the edge and pulled it down. "Huh?" His curiosity stronger than any desire of keeping his brother's privacy private—meaning none—, he took the small, wrinkled paper from Emil's hands and read the first line out loud: " _To my brother_ …?"

His purple eyes traveled through the loose handwriting in the piece of paper, and when he finished he blinked a couple of times, not quite getting the hint of what was happening. So he went on and read it a second time.

' _I'm sorry_ '? ' _Did it_ '? ' _Harrassing_ '? ' _Loneliness_ '. ' _If given a chance_ '. ' _Died_ '.

It all came down like the first three letters of his brother's birth country. A huge sentiment of emptiness filled the space where his guts, throat and heart should've been. He ran to his brother's side, and shook him again. This time more adamant, more forceful, more _desperate_.

"Emil, wake up this instant, this is no time for your little jokes," along with the small tremors in his hands, his voice felt very unsteady. "I'm serious, Emil, if you don't wake up this instant you'll be forbidden of those booklets you like so much and of your violin classes," not only did his threats seem to be reaching deaf ears, but with each unresponsive second, the skin under Luka's hands seemed the be getting colder and colder. Until he felt like he was touching a mere block of ice.

And it strung to him. And he couldn't do anything else than dropping on his knees and start sobbing.

Because his little brother had killed himself in a silent, torturous way: alone.

And it hurt, because it was _irreversible_.

It hurt because it was _real_.

It hurt because it had been so very obvious from the beginning but he had been so _blind_ and _stupid_ to even notice something was _wrong_.

So much for being a good big brother.

"Lukas?" The Norwegian didn't even bother lifting his gaze when Matthias approached to him, worried because he had never seen his friend so distressed over something before.

"Emil… he…" was all that could be heard, between strangled sobs and miserable weeping. "He killed himself!" When he said this, he clang onto the Dane's shirt for dear life. The dear life his brother deprived himself from.

Matthias just stood there, dumbfounded as he stroked circles in Lukas's back in a vain attempt to calm him down. He himself was containing the urge to cry that was threatening to overwhelm him in tidal waves. He took Emil's desk chair and sat Lukas in there, hushing softly his heart-wrenching sobs. Perhaps he was also trying to sooth himself from the pain.

With a serious expression so unlike him, he walked towards Emil's bed. Heavy, very heavy footsteps slowly reaching their destiny. When he was close enough to lean over, he reached two fingers and pressed them over Emil's neck.

And then he felt it. There was no pulse.

Emil Steilsson was dead at 7:13 in the morning.

.

"Eduard Von Bock and Kiku Honda, please come to the principal's office."

One of said boys sighed with annoyance, wondering just what he had done to bother the principal now.

And his Japanese classmate, for that matter.

He watched as the raven-haired boy silently raised from his seat and walked towards the door. It didn't take long for the blond to do the same.

He met Kiku in the hallway, and even though his expression was as serious as always, his eyes held a worried glint.

"Do you think it has something to do with Emiru-kun?" Eduard blinked a little at the question. He had wondered a little what had happened to Emil, but he didn't consider that the sudden call from their oh-so-acclaimed Mr. Principal had anything to do with his friend.

"I don't know, I guess we'll have to figure out," and so they walked. In a very awkward silence and under the slightly-blinking plasma lights in the school hallways. It was a ten-minute trip from classroom 1-4 to the huge oak door whose gold-ish-imprinted letters read "Mr. Principal's Office."

They knocked once, twice until the high-pitched voice of the secretary told them to come in. They announced themselves to the woman typing furiously in the black keyboard, and they walked to the second door to the right.

They didn't miss the pitiful glance from the woman, but they didn't react to it, either.

When they opened the door and saw Matthias waiting for them inside, confusion finally kicked in.

"Matthias?" The Dane also wore a pitiful glance, only this one came with remorse and a poorly hidden despair.

"Hello, Eduard," he said, as cheerfully as he could—which, considering the situation, was almost none—. Matthias lifted an object of wood, iron, and duck tape stuck in odd edges; he handed it to a dumbstruck Kiku. "I hope you know how this works, Emil said to have this delivered to you." The Japanese boy nodded and took it. Staring at it as if he was holding some mysterious treasure. "He also apologized for not being able to expose it with you."

"That's ok."

"Is Emil sick or something?" That was the one question whose answer Eduard dreaded and desired the most. And he felt himself tense along with the mood.

He should've known it by the heavy sigh emitted by the usually cheerful blond, or so he would tell himself afterwards, when he was home, laying in his bed, thinking life was just unfair for treating someone the way it did.

With a very reluctant, very trembling hand, Matthias fished the wrinkled piece of paper he now hated so much, and thrusted it into the Estonian's hands. Just wishing to have it done an over with.

Eduard unfolded it, and within the first line he recognized the stylish curves of Emil's handwriting.

"A letter?" He asked, unsure, but after checking the length again, he retracted himself. "No, a note," intrigued sapphires behind thin-framed glasses, swept the note and stopped at the name of its author. More confused then before, he read it a second, third, fourth, and fifth time, until the reality—the message between lines—of that small, wrinkled paper, hit him. Hard.

Finding himself unable to react to the reality of it all, he hands the note to the person besides him, who reacts in a similar fashion, only more silent and with way less rehearsals.

A silent as heavy as the biggest rock hidden in the sea became settled in the spacious and elegant room with enough chairs for everyone and a carpeted floor. It was cut by the one who found himself less affected.

"So this means… that Emiru-kun… is dead?" Kiku asked, praying to any gods that may hear them please that not be the case.

"Yes." And along with that steady answer, came all of Eduard's deepest fears come true, overwhelming him and burying him in an ocean of pure darkness.

.

They were allowed to go out early, and after much insistence from Kiku, they were allowed to stay until lunch time so he could expose their science project.

Of course, apologies and condolences flew in the room like fireflies do in summer. He bid goodbye with Kiku and parted ways from him, with promises to see each other the next day.

With much thought behind it, Eduard walked to the small children's park near the school and sat in one of the swings, he have himself impulse backwards and waited for gravity to do its thing and thrust him forwards. Holding to the iron chains as he would probably need it, then started the typical back-and-forth motion.

They say a busy body keeps your mind from being busy, and so it worked for the Estonian, who was just procrastinating for the weeping that was sure to come later.

Just delaying the inescapable.

Only when it had gotten dark did Eduard get down from the swing, knowing that most probably his mom was already hysteric from not hearing of his beloved son. He stared at the playground once more, and buried the memories of a happy childhood with a boy of silvery hair and reddish eyes. He bowed to come again some other day, in memoriam of the good times.

(Lemme tell you something: he never did.)

As he walked, he stared at his surroundings, and realized just how much Emil meant to him, sure, he had appreciated him, god heavens, _he had asked him out!_ But as they say, one can never have enough of something they're addict to.

He stopped short in his tracks as that sudden thought came into mind. _Was he addicted to his best friend?_ The dictionary's definition for said word is ' _something whose deprivement causes physical and psychological struggles_ ', surely the lack of company from the Icelandic didn't cause him physical or psychological struggles, _did it_?

And so he postponed his arrival home for another good half an hour, trying to decide whether a person can become addicted to another one. He came to a much easier, less open to discussion conclusion.

Emil's sudden and unexpected—to most, a few saw it as very predictable—death was a nut hard to crack.

* * *

Hello again, I'm very sorry if this still a little confusing and for the difference in the length of the first two chapters and this one, I just didn't know where was best to cut it. So I went along with the angst. Next chapter will be background story (filler chapter, ahem), just warning. The continuity is a lot more confusing that the story itself, I know, and I'm sorry. But then again, thanks a lot for reading, it means a lot to me. Any grammar mistakes I might have, or misspellings, please tell me, I always double check, but they're normally not enough. I guess that's it.

See y'all!


	4. The Downfall

"And what are we supposed to do in here?" Emil asked as he followed Arthur through the darkness.

"Whatever you want, this place is yours."

"So, say, if I wanted to go back to earth, would I be able to?" Arthur stopped and turned around, meeting the boy with a neutral gaze.

"In theory, yes you can, but it doesn't actually seem like you want to." He observed. "That's why you killed yourself in the first place."

"True, some people were dumbasses."

"That term doesn't apply to me, does it?"

"Nah." Emil shrugged and sighed. Then looked around and suddenly thought of something. "Can I go back to my past?"

"Yes, but only as an spectator."

Emil frowned. "I thought you said I could do whatever I wanted."

"Here. Going back to your past as part of it would mean living it. Which you can't." Arthur gave a tired sigh. "Even in the seemingly nowhere there are a few unsaid rules, and when I said 'whatever you wanted', I meant you could wish you had a plane and suddenly have it delivered to you."

"I can?" Arthur glared at him through a slightly ticking eye.

"For the third time, yes."

"Then I want to go back and see my past."

.

Emil Steilsson was born on June 17th 1992, in a small village in Iceland. His mother used to be a waitress until she ran off when she found out she was pregnant again, taking along her Norwegian first-born.

She died some time after Emil could drink milk substitute without getting sick of the stomach, when he was eight months old.

Now being orphan, a teenager and big brother, it was time for Lukas to run away. This time to Denmark where his uncle lived.

The man received them with open arms after finding out what had happened to his dear cousin, and so they lived in Denmark.

A little after Emil's first birthday, Lukas met Matthias Køhler, an incredibly obnoxious and cheerful Dane that pissed the hell out of him, but for some incredible reason, he still became friends with him.

Matthias Køhler not only turned out to be good at molesting Lukas and receiving all the bad comments the Norge gave him (which he also seemed to enjoy, strangely enough), but was also good with kids, having once been a babysitter.

And so, thirteen-year-old Lukas Bondevik and sixteen-year-old Matthias Køhler, together raised little Emil Steilsson.

When Emil was old enough to go to elementary, Lukas had already graduated from high-school and Matthias was halfway to finish a college degree on physics. Specifically electromagnetic.

When Emil was in fourth grade they all moved to England. Matthias because he got an awesome job offer, and Lukas because he got a scholarship in a university nearby.

So they went to England.

Emil, having always been stoic as he was, didn't seem displeased with the change of scenery, nor did he seem specially enthusiast about it either. He just didn't voice his opinion as people usually do.

They didn't know, elementary boys liked to make fun of him because of his grayish hair and weird accent.

Most of the days Emil could ignore it by working on the task at hand—and they usually had many—, and when he couldn't, he would find refuge in the bathroom or in the deserted hallways.

He didn't know that kind of behavior was wrong until it was pointed out to him in social studies. And still, he didn't make a big fuss of it nor did he report his persecutors. He had endured it most of his school life and he could endure the rest, thank you very much.

Outside school Emil didn't go out much, mostly because of his distaste towards social interactions. And so he would stay at home, doing his homework, or reading a book.

Before entering sixth grade, Emil met Eduard.

Ivan Braginsky was a known bully, the most famous in the school, actually, and so he would try to corner the new guys into his small circle of friends. This time he was attempting to integrate an Estonian exchange student.

"Please, I promise I'm a very loyal friend, and no one will mess up with you…"

"You're already doing that," both Scandinavians turned around and noticed a boy with icy skin and fiery eyes. (As so would Eduard later describe him.) "Leave him alone, Braginsky, he's a teenager, he's old enough to know what he wants and what he doesn't." Ivan blinked a couple of times, surprised that Emil had stood up to him, and then he turned to his usual, child-like smile, along with a giggle that sent chills down Eduard's spine.

"Little Emil, it's nice to see you again," the Icelandic just nodded, already accustomed to the sickenly sweet character of the Russian boy. "Well, I must hurry with my sister now, if you change your opinion, Eduard, the offer is still open, da?"

"Y-yes." He stuttered. And he watched dumbfounded as Ivan walked out of their view. "Thank you," he said as he turned to face the boy, who was now eating a chocolate bar with the same poker face as before. "My name is Eduard Von Bock," he said as he offered a hand.

"Emil Steilsson, why thank me?" He questioned after accepting his hand.

"For saving me from that guy, he has been hot on my heels all week long."

"Well, you better learn to save yourself, because this is a one-time thing." He gave a last bite to his chocolate bar and threw the covering to the thrash can. He turned around to get out of the boy's way, and just as he walked a couple of steps, a hand on his shoulders made him double take. "What now?" He asked irritated to the boy's insistence.

"Why do you act so cold?"

Emil shrugged. "Maybe because I'm from Iceland," he said casually, not even blinking an eye when the boy gave an enormous laugh.

"Nice pun you had there." Emil shrugged again, but you could see the hint of a smile overshadowing his lips.

"You could say that," he stared at his watch and then back to Eduard. "Listen, I gotta go to class already, but you can meet me at recess, ok?"

"It's a date, then?"

At that moment, you could almost see the faint blush in Emil's cheeks.

"Dates are for couples." He stated.

"An outing, then?" For some strange reason, the blush deepened.

"Yes."

.

It would be an understatement to say those two became best friends, and even though their first outings together were limited to school grounds, the next ones were always at either Emil's or Eduard's. The everyday question was 'to whose today?'.

And everything seemed perfect at the moment.

Their grades were high enough to get in a respectable high school, and so they went to high school.

The first semester —as is any first period of your life—, was a crazy mixture between wild, exciting, and terrifying. They had to deal with a lot more pressure since they were no longer kids or teenagers, but youths with a promising future and goals in life. Realistic goals.

Most wanted to be accountants, other lawyers, many more wanted to be doctor's and there were even a few soon-to-be writers. Emil's choice was a very discreet scribble in the corner of the las page in one of his notebooks. It was written with his elegant handwriting that a somewhat admiring appearance to it. ' _Archeologist_.'

Why that, you say? Well, he grew up in the perfect environment to discover his love for hidden treasures in the depths of any nation, he, like Indiana Jones, felt passion for the ruins in places like were the jungle, deserts, and even tundras.

Not long ago, he had discovered that recent excavations demonstrated Iceland had no native population, but were actually Norwegians born in Iceland. _And it had excited_ _him_!

Also Mr. Puffin would totally agree to go with him on mission. The bird was like a mobster and therefore bound to love adrenaline.

First semester was over and they passed with flying colors.

Second, third, fourth, and fifth semester passed in a similar fashion. Nothing actually outstanding to say of those.

Sixth semester was an emotional roller coaster for Emil.

.

Mid-terms were finally over and they were allowed to go wherever they wanted between periods, and so they both decided to go to the cafeteria.

They both took a coffee, talked nonsense as they would each meeting, and then, all of a sudden: "Emil, would you like to hang out?"

"More than we already do?" Emil tilted his head. "Uh, sure, where to?"

"No, you misunderstood me, I meant hanging out as in…" he took a deep breath, preparing himself for what was to come. "A date."

Emil tensed, this he did not expect. He stared at his friend for a couple of seconds, making sure he had already gulped his portion of cappuccino, and tried talking.

Step 1: failed. He could only gape.

"I… you… I never…" and so, his try on human speech discouraged Eduard, who stared low-eyed as his best friend and recent crush so blatantly reject him.

"I-it's ok," he said, and when he heard the ring bell, he rose from his seat and walked to the trash can to throw away his waste. "Um, meet you later at my place?"

"Yeah."

That week was the downfall.

* * *

Hello again, I'm sorry if I bother you, but I was too eager on starting chapter four I couldn't leave it for later. I'm sorry if the chapters are a little short, I prefer them this way just so they won't take long in updating. Sorry again. I apologize for making Russia seem like the bad guy here, but I wanted to make a reference to Iceland and Estonia. If I remember correctly, Russia wasn't accepting Estonia's independence, and so Iceland stepped forward and declared that he recognized Estonia and the two other Baltics as independent nations. And sorry about how poorly I developed that scene.

I think I'm already halfway through this thing, and since I already did all the background, I can finally go forward. Again, thanks for reading. It means so much to me.

See you later!


	5. The Forest Of Lost Memories

Lukas stared into thin air as he was seated on a bench in the nearby park. Awaiting for some sort of signal—his alarm clock suddenly gone off, Emil jumping out to scare him, Matthias mocking of him—that told him it was all a lie. Anything and he would gladly believe it.

He reminisced about his childhood in Norway. That place he had long but forgotten, a place he still considered home. Sure, London was a huge place, and a nice one at that, but it wouldn't compare to the warmth of a meat broth at early morning, or seeing the dawn in those beautiful woods…

And then there was Matthias to think about.

Before the whole panic attack was over, he had ran there with all his might and hoped his friend didn't chase after him, not really wanting to interact with anyone. Just him and his depressing thoughts.

He would have to apologize later to his friend.

He stared as a woman entered the place with her two children who weren't old enough to even attend kindergarten. And he remembered Emil. He would bring him to the park in Denmark every Sunday, and Emil, out of genuine joy for spending time with his big brother, would smile.

Those were the best times of his life, Lukas finally reflected, and gave a sigh as the first leaves of autumn started to fall, marking, once and for the rest of the year, the end of a pleasant summer.

.

Matthias sighed and sat in a chair as he was finally over with the questions for the police. He stared over Lukas' unfinished breakfast and decided that no food should ever go to waste.

As he ate the remainings of French toast and black coffee, he began to struggle on whatever should he do with the situation. But nothing could be done.

He sighed again and let his head rest back in the wooden chair, and he tried to rememorize and cherish all those years with Emil and Lukas.

" _Is he your son_?" Those were the first words he had spoken to his long time friend. " _He's very cute and you look very alike_."

" _He's my little brother_ ," Lukas answered, seeming somewhat bored.

" _O-ow,_ " Matthias stuttered, very flustered at the huge mistake made. " _You both still_ _look a lot alike_." And he smiled.

" _Thanks, I guess_." Lukas had shrugged and gone to supervise Emil just so he wouldn't hurt himself.

After that, he had watched both boys from afar. Thanks to extended talks with close neighbors, he came to know that the bigger one's name was Lukas and the little one was Emil. And he tried talking with Lukas, being his fried as he seemed to have none his age.

At first he was met with plain rudeness and meanness. Then with half-hearted attempts to push him away, and then with I'm-already-used-to-this-shit-now-anyways silence and stoicism.

So now Lukas had a friend to rely on.

It was fun to join them for meals, they would just stare at nowhere and eat. No talk, so at first it was awkward for him. Then he would talk to them, well, to Lukas, if we take into consideration Emil was just a baby.

He watched them both grow up. Emil from the small bundle he could easily carry with one arm, to the young man that dreamed to be like Gertrude Bell, Leopoldo Batres, Bjønar Olsen and Therkel Mathiassen. And Lukas… well, Lukas he developed from that insecure teenager who knew nothing about raising children, to the amazing big brother Emil admired.

Not that Emil would ever say that out loud, though.

Matthias got up from his seat to place the plates on the dishwasher and then to his bedroom. He had an hour before going to the research lab, he needed to get ready.

And as he passed Emil's room, he didn't know why he had done it, perhaps out of curiosity, or nostalgia, he just felt the need to enter.

Everything was in perfect order, accommodated where it should be, and it left no trace of someone being depressed.

 _Depressed_ … he tasted the term in his mouth for a few seconds before it left him a bitter flavor. That's what the doctors had said that led Emil to his suicide. What killed him, a pill. Sleeping pills. Considering how smart Emil was, he would have expected him to use a more creative way.

Out of the corner of his eye, he picture a small pice of paper under the bed. It seemed like a printed paper.

He walked towards it, it seemed out of place with how ordered everything else was. He picked it up and read it.

They were admission papers. To an archaeology institute in Iceland.

He stared at it. For a long time.

He would skip work today, call in sick.

.

"Eduard, honey, are you ok?" Eduard tensed as the second most dreaded moment of his day became real.

"Hi mom," he greeted, trying his very best to keep a straight face. "Yeah, we had a few pop quizzes today and tons of homework." He turned his back on her to leave his sweater near the door.

"How is Emil?" He grimaced.

"He's…" he licked his lips, closed his mouth, and slowly tasted his options. "…dead."

"Oh, honey…" she lamented, readying a comforting speech in her head. "I'm so sorry…"

"I-it's ok," he hurried. "I'm… I mean, I do grieve it, but in gonna be fine, right?"

When he felt heaviness in his chest, he realized the question was more to calm himself than his mother.

She stared at him, pain and pity soft in her features. "If you ever need anything, just tell me," she said and turned around, "I'll reheat dinner, you must be hungry."

"Yeah… I'm heading to my room."

"Ok, I'll call you when dinner is ready."

When he reached his bedroom he closed shut his room and threw his backpack in a chair near his bed. He sat in the soft mattress and gave a soft sigh, letting the idea to sink in.

He was now devoid of his friend. And perhaps he had been lying.

He would not be okay for a very long time.

* * *

Man, I feel like this chapter is just… lame. I've been stressing a little but nothing mayor, and I hope I can keep up the updates constantly. And sorry, I lied when I said I had finished with the background story, I still have next chapter left. I'm also afraid it will be a very short one.

This chapter's title was brought to you by Ando Yuko's "Wasuremono no Mori." Not mine. Hers. And also, I almost forgot entirely, but Hetalia is not mine, but Himaruya's.

Until later. Se y'all.

(P.S: I'm dwelling on we're I should add DenNor to this story or leave it like that. Any help?)


	6. If This Be Our Last Conversation

Please, please if you like this story, go to YouTube and play SafetySuit's "What if," it goes according to this chapter. Kind of.

* * *

Funeral services were as anyone would expect it: gloomy and shallow.

Except, there was no rain pouring in the cemetery.

The sky was still gray, though, and the only talking made was that of funeral expenses and such, even so it was more like a monologue.

Lukas' gaze was fixed in the pristine whitish of the coffin, descending into the depths of the earth in a desperatingly slow pace.

He wanted to throw himself into that coffin and sleep forever along his baby brother—oh, how he wanted it—, but couldn't bring himself to even move his gaze. Half a week had passed and it still felt so surreal. It seemed as if just yesterday he was tucking Emil to bed and singing him that old Norwegian lullaby. About the baby, and how he needed to sleep.

It seemed as if the first song would be the last one as well, taking Emil along with it.

He took a step forward, feeling numb, not thinking, just wanting to be near his dear brother… a hand on his wrist made him turn around and double take. Matthias was staring at him. _Why were his eyes moist? Why was he shaking his head? What did he mean?_

"No…" whispered the Dane, and Lukas stared at him dumbfounded. "Stay…" Lukas frowned more.

 _What did he mean…?_

He stared once more at the huge hole in the earth, and remembered. And felt again. And grieved again.

But that dull numbness covered him once more, he felt tears sting in his eyes, but he didn't know why. He didn't know where he was. He closed his eyes a little, trying to reason, trying to think.

His little brother had died. He should feel wrecked. But he didn't.

He turned his blurry gaze back to his Danish friend, and slowly, oh so slowly, he got close to him and wrapped his arms around him. He felt an immediate response. And he suddenly could cry again.

.

Eduard was also trying to process everything. He was quiet as well. He glanced once in a while at Kiku, who brought a small bouquet of white flowers and was now throwing them into Emil's grave.

"What a day for a funeral." Eduard turned around at the familiar voice, but other than that, he didn't react. "It's such a pity, he had a very bright future."

"Ivan."

"Da?" The Russian stared at Eduard, and he felt a little awkward there, talking about Emil with him of all people.

"Why are you here?" He questioned, half suspicious, half tired. He just wanted to lay back on his bed, and perhaps never wake up again like his friend did. Just immerse himself into the blissful, immortal darkness.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm Emil's friend~" the sticky voice sticking the Estonian's head.

"You aren't, as far as I remember he despises you."

"Then your memory has some flaws~" he smiled, and Eduard thought to himself about how very inappropriate that was in the situation.

"Perhaps," he murmured as he stared once more at the earth gap, he stared at the last white flower disappear from and out of his reach, as did Emil.

"He loved you, you know that?" He turned around and for a moment he did not believe that grave voice thick with emotion belonged to Ivan, his features now softened with sorrow.

"He did?" He asked absentmindedly.

"Da, whether you believe it or not, he is my friend, not a close one, but a friend nonetheless," Ivan looked at the sky, "the little he talked, was about you, and it was laced with admiration.

"He is that kind of person whose attention is priceless, very hard to capture. And you must've been very special to him if you had it every moment of his life."

Eduard gulped the lump that had formed in his throat, and dared look at the direction the coffin was once more.

"I guess so."

Ivan smiled again like usual, and tilted his head. "Life must go on, at your pace, for this is your life. But it must go on, staying stuck is no option here," and with that, he left.

Leaving a huge load of weight in Eduard's shoulders.

.

"Are you sure you want to do that, lad?" Arthur tried reasoning with the boy.

"Yes, I am very sure."

"B-but, have you any idea of how they will react?" It clearly wasn't working.

"Yes… no… it doesn't matter, it's only one person I want to see, only one…" he stared at his guide with wide, pleading eyes. "Please…"

"Just one person, and just this once, get it?" Emil nodded, thankful to have convinced Arthur to let him go.

.

The funeral didn't seem to pass fast enough, even if they were only four hours. It was as if time decided to get larger for them to grieve longer. To stay longer, for it not to be real a little longer.

To hold on longer.

However, it was finished by dusk, and the little group of people gathered at the cemetery parted ways. With a heavy heart and a small hope things would go back to normal soon enough.

Even if soon enough was far, far away from their grasp.

And as they both were heading to sleep, Matthias hears a knocking in his door.

"Come in," he answers as he already knew who it could be. There were no other options.

Lukas turned the doorknob and entered, his steps vacillate; he walked a little until reaching the foot of Matthias' bed, and stopped there.

"Did you need something?" He asked, holding his breath as the Norge kept quiet. "Uh… Lukas?"

Lukas didn't speak. He was the kind of person who thought actions spoke louder than words. And so he acted.

In silence, he slipped into bed and made sure to cover himself. Matthias frowned. "Lukas…?"

"Can I sleep with you tonight?" He spoke in a very fast and sloopy Danish, and if it wasn't because Matthias had a good ear, he wouldn't have caught what his friend had said.

He blinked a couple of times, Lukas was never this… affectionate.

"I… guess so," Matthias walked to the door, turned the switch off, and as he was walking out, he heard Lukas talk again.

"Please stay, there's no work for you left to do, and I'm scared of being alone right now."

Matthias stood frozen in place, never once having heard his friend being so open about his feelings—crying didn't count, there was a difference between showing and talking—, never having heard him be so _weak_.

But weak wasn't necessarily bad.

He turned to Lukas once more, and with the dim hallway light he could make out the Norge's figure hugging tightly to his pillow.

He approached, and approached, and then sat in the bed. He stared at his friend, and as some kind of instinct told him to, he started caressing his hair, hoping to calm him.

"How can you be so happy all the time, even if there is nothing to be happy about?" Asked Lukas in a hushed whisper. So broken Matthias could already feel those small strings pull at his heart. It hurt him physically.

"Well… it's not easy," he admitted with a small chuckle. "You have to be strong for those you love," he smiled a little as he counted them. "You have to remember there is always something good to all the bad, there is always a rainbow turning the corner after a storm."

"But what if _there isn't_?"

" _But what if there is_?"

Lukas shushed, not really feeling like fighting someone right now.

"You can be happy if you want to, but you don't have to feel forced to, 'cause if you do, people around you won't feel happy. There is time for happiness, for silliness, for anger. There is also time for grief and sadness."

"And how long is time for sadness?"

Matthias took a deep sigh, having emotional conversations—as much of an open person he was—, was not his forte.

"However long it takes for you to heal."

"And how long does it take to heal?"

"It depends on the wound and the person who is healing."

Lukas seemed satisfied by that, or so Matthias deducted when his friend had softened his grip on the pillow, and his whole body relaxed, feeling sleep to finally arrive. One last blink and those purple irises would say goodbye for the night.

"Night, Matthias."

"Night Lukas."

.

Eduard paced a little around his room, the digital clock by his bed read '1:29 AM', and still, he didn't feel an ounce of sleepiness.

"Eduard."

The Estonian's hand stopped at his desk and he kept his back turned to the source of that _oh-so-familiar-voice._

He turned around slowly, and he gaped at the sight in front of him. "Emil…?"

The Icelandic smiled shyly at him. "Hi."

Having recovered from his shock, he ran to his friend and hugged him, almost pushing him to the bed by accident.

"I can't believe it! You're alive! We have to tell your brother…" he grabbed his phone to dial the Norge, sure, it was late, but his brother was alive! Surely he could be forgiven.

"No, Eduard…"

"Why not? He's been worried sick, and we all thought you were dead!" His hand was already pressing the last three numbers, Emil rushed and snatched the phone away from his friend before he could press 'call'. "Why'd you do that?!"

"So you would listen to me!" At that moment, Eduard could see again fire in his eyes, that passion… "I am dead!"

Eduard stopped. Emil stopped. The whole world stopped.

"…you… can't be…"

"Yes I am, you were at my funeral today." Eduard blinked, confused, his breathing became heavy, and as Emil was coming near to comfort him, he let out a great laugh.

"If you are dead, how can you be here?"

"I don't know…" Eduard let out another, ironical, laugh.

"You are dead, yet I can see you… dead, dead, _dead_ …" and all Emil could do for the moment was stare.

"And tell me, how is life up there?" Emil grimaces at seeing Eduard's expression transformed from mild insanity, to anger. It was amazing.

"Boring." He simply answered.

"I figured," he licked his lips, pondering for a moment what to say next, "why did you do it?" He asked with his back turned to the Icelandic.

"I felt depressed, I didn't want to go on anymore…"

"And did you think, for a second, what your brother, Matthias or _I_ wanted?" He practically spit, with every trace of venom he could. A small part of him felt bad, it told him he should cherish this small moment with his love to at least properly say goodbye instead of just bickering nonsense.

"No."

"What happened there, Emil?" He asked again, this time softer, less irate.

And Emil couldn't help but tear up.

His sobs came strangled in hiccups and trembles, his tears cascaded down his icy skin. It was beautiful.

It was Emil.

And as Eduard stared, he remembered what they said about his friend. About how he was the coldest person on earth. About how he had no emotions. About how he was fucking senseless.

And Eduard couldn't help think they were dead wrong.

Emil was very sensible. He just didn't show his feelings as he was shy and insecure for all the things he had gone through. He was afraid to be heartbroken, as it was the only thing he had left.

They didn't get to see the amazing gamma of emotions he could show. How Eduard pitied them.

"My life was becoming shit, after that day, you started hanging out more with that Hungarian friend…"

"Oh, Emil…" he now felt like understanding.

"No, listen." He gulped a handful more of sobs and continued. "You seemed so unreachable and stress was also getting to me, and talks with Ivan were the only way out of my silent despair!" Eduard felt himself hurt a little with that, _just say it_ , he thought to himself, _say you love him_.

"But the whole time, I was fucking thinking about you! And you were always either with that girl, or another, or another…" He dried the last tear that dared venture his face. "I felt so lost…" Eduard tried approaching a step, and Emil stepped back as well.

"I'm so sorry…"

"You don't have to be…"

They stayed silent for a good half an hour, no sound but that of their breathings.

"Please promise me something as this is the last time we will talk." Emil asked, his eyes downcast.

"Yes?"

"When I leave this room, try harder to move on, if you are stuck on an Icelandic teen who could barely contain his feelings you won't be able to be happy. And you deserve it."

"You also deserved it…"

"Not anymore…" he glanced back at Eduard, his eyes shimmering, tears again crystalizing them. "…can I ask you something else?"

"Anything." The word tasted bitter, and he hoped it wasn't a ' _forget me_ ', moving on was hard enough as it was. Forgetting would be madness.

Perhaps amnesia didn't seem like that of a bad option.

"Can you kiss me?" It seemed like a childish thing to ask, but Eduard said nothing else as he slowly approached and took his chin, lifted it up, and stared into his eyes.

They were apprehensive.

And with a sigh from the Icelandic Eduard hurried to close the small gap between them, taking his sweet time to explore the outlining of his mouth.

It was small, and had some rough edges, but Eduard didn't care, as he felt his heart soaring with that kiss.

Small, slender arms tangled around his neck, and he did the same to Emil's waist, wanting to stand there in eternity, as it seemed to be now at the palm of their hands.

Emil started disappearing, fading into thin air. And that soaring, fluttering feeling Eduard had just milliseconds ago became the dullest of aches…

That's when he finally cried.

Emil had made it very hard to let go.

* * *

Hello~ it's nice to have this done. Anyway, I have some bad, bad news: next chapter is going to be the last one (or good, if you are already bothered by my insistence on shipping them). I know it all happened very fast, and I'm sorry if I didn't get to elaborate it good enough. I really am. After this, however, I'll be posting a couple of one-shots of different pairings as I like a lot (I accept requests~). Then I most probably start another multichapter waaaaayyy longer than this one. Again, thanks for reading. It means a lot to me.

Enough babbling, time's up.

See y'all!

(P.S: The Norwegian lullaby I was referring to at the funeral scene is called 'Den Fyrste Song', it means, I think, 'The First Song'. Look it up, it beautiful.)


	7. Able To Let Go

"Hey Emil, how have you been? That's a stupid question, right? You must think I'm a fool for coming to visit you once a week and leave you white dahlias, I still remember you once said they were your favorite." Eduard switched his weight onto his right foot. "However, foolishness is not my topic of discussion, it is, as always, keeping you up to date." He smiled at the marmot-imprinted grave, his eyes twinkling softly at the Icelandic spelling of the name pertaining once to his best friend.

.

" _Lukas seems back to his old self, he still misses you a lot, but at least he doesn't cry himself to sleep like Matthias told me he used to the first days… Matthias was the first one to turn his back on grief…"_

"Hey, I'm home," said the Dane as he hung his jacket near the door, grinning at that day's events. He still couldn't get over the fact he had won Berwald in a bet. And the look he wore!

He climbed the stairs, two-by-two, as he always would, making a lot of noise, as he is. He stopped by their bedroom (Lukas still couldn't bring himself to sleep alone with his nightmares), and when he saw it empty, he turned on his heels and walked up to the room crossing the hallway, the one that once was Emil's.

Surely, Lukas was sitting in the bed, caressing the pillow as if there was someone there while he sang a Norwegian lullaby, one Matthias had come to learn Emil loved as a child. Matthias leaned on the door, observing the scene before him with that soft look in his eyes and his arms crossed over his chest. He didn't want to break Lukas from the trance he seemed to be in, his voice was so soothing and peaceful… he dreaded it would come back to those days where crying was all Lukas could do to relieve his pain.

He took careful, silent steps towards the bed, Lukas' gaze focusing on him as he approached. His singing came to a halt as the Dane sat on the bed. They stared for a few minutes until Matthias decided to break the silence.

"Let's head down, dinner won't make itself." He received a tiny smirk that made him grin too. He waited until Lukas was out of the room to take the key and close the door, slipping it under the door soon after, it was time to let go.

"Guess who beat a Swede's ass today?" He asked smugly as he caught up to Lukas on his way down.

"Your mom?"

"Hey!"

Lukas broke into laughter, and despite the enormous pout Matthias wore, he too started laughing, he was glad to see Lukas being so free. He'd have to make sure Lukas did that often.

Definitively.

.

" _College is going fine…"_

"Why are you grinning so much?" Eduard lifted his gaze to settle it on that Russian guy that used to annoy him to no end (he still did, but the Estonian now tolerated him a little). He then proceeded to roll his eyes.

"My grades, they're pretty neat."

"You shouldn't be so happy, mine are better," he added with a grin of his own. "Besides, it is barely our first semester~"

"As you say, Ivan, it is barely our first semester, you shouldn't be so surprised when I beat your Russian ass in the rest of the year."

"Ooh, what are you going to do about it? Sing me to death?"

"What if I am?"

They both broke laughing, it was just all so funny considering they hated each other just a few months ago, it was as if they had bonded when _that_ happened. They still hadn't quite gotten over it, but they would, eventually. Things like this took baby steps to finally cross the road.

.

" _There's this Latvian guy from an exchange program, he's really nervous all the time and shaking a lot,"_

"H-hey," asked a small, squeaky voice from behind him. "I-is this seat o-occupied?" He asked, pointing to the space besides Eduard.

"Of course not, you can sit if you want," he offered, watching amused as the little guy sat, shaking like a Chihuahua dog. "Y'know, you're in a college, no one's going to bite you here, so no need to keep shaking like that."

"I-it's a medical p-problem," he tried explaining.

"Ok," Eduard shrugged. "My name is Eduard, Eduard Von Bock," he said while offering his hand to shake towards his new classmate. The other one accepted it a little curious.

"M-mine is Raivis Galante…"

" _but if you really get to know him, he's a really nice person, and an interesting one at that. It makes me feel guilty I tease him so much all the time_."

.

"… _What else? Oh, right. I still miss you, but I guess that's to be expected. There are some days I feel like it is impossible to go on without you, fortunately, those days are less and less often now…_

" _I seriously wish you would've talked to me sooner instead of keeping it all bottled up to yourself, not that I'm blaming you or anything, since it was also my fault… but I was supposed to be your best friend, and I kind of felt betrayed that you didn't trust me enough to admit you felt bad or anything… but as they say, what's done it's done."_

.

His gaze now settled on the sky, that seemed blue forevermore, with a soft, indigo shade to it, and the clouds never-been-whiter. A couple of birds passed by, peeping and minding their own business, as do birds.

Eduard glanced at the watch in his wrist, sighing softly. "I hope you don't mind, but I have to leave early today, I have something important to do, I hope I find in me enough strength to resist the urges to come next week. Until then." With as much care as he could muster, he kneeled and placed the small, white flowers besides the tomb.

With a small gesture of his hand, he bid farewell to the, once, most important person to ever exist in his life.

And he could breathe free afterwards, as if that visit was all that he had needed all along, to get rid of that pressure in his chest every time he came here.

He let him go…

 **The End |** **終わり**

* * *

Thank you all for reading, I know this last chapter took an awful lot, and I feel relieve to finally give closure to this, despite it being a little short.

This fanfiction was inspired by "Let Her Go" from Passenger and "If I Die Young" from The Band Perry. The ending is really far from what I had first imagined it, but I feel happy with it, nonetheless. I will think about posting the alternate ending in a different entry, but it is highly unlikely I do so. Without further ado, I, too, say "until next time!"

~ _smoothie out_.


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